ding, which
it still appeared frowningly to protect by the few remaining branches,
leafless and moss-grown, that crowned its trunk, and whose wide extent
told how enormous the tree had been in a former age. This fortress was
evidently once of great strength, and, from its situation on a point of
rock, impending over a deep glen, had been of great power to annoy, as
well as to resist; the Count, therefore, as he stood surveying it, was
somewhat surprised, that it had been suffered, ancient as it was, to
sink into ruins, and its present lonely and deserted air excited in
his breast emotions of melancholy awe. While he indulged, for a moment,
these emotions, he thought he heard a sound of remote voices steal upon
the stillness, from within the building, the front of which he again
surveyed with scrutinizing eyes, but yet no light was visible. He now
determined to walk round the fort, to that remote part of it, whence he
thought the voices had arisen, that he might examine whether any light
could be discerned there, before he ventured to knock at the gate; for
this purpose, he entered upon the terrace, where the remains of cannon
were yet apparent in the thick walls, but he had not proceeded many
paces, when his steps were suddenly arrested by the loud barking of a
dog within, and which he fancied to be the same, whose voice had been
the means of bringing the travellers thither. It now appeared certain,
that the place was inhabited, and the Count returned to consult again
with St. Foix, whether he should try to obtain admittance, for its wild
aspect had somewhat shaken his former resolution; but, after a
second consultation, he submitted to the considerations, which before
determined him, and which were strengthened by the discovery of the dog,
that guarded the fort, as well as by the stillness that pervaded it.
He, therefore, ordered one of his servants to knock at the gate, who was
advancing to obey him, when a light appeared through the loop-hole
of one of the towers, and the Count called loudly, but, receiving no
answer, he went up to the gate himself, and struck upon it with an
iron-pointed pole, which had assisted him to climb the steep. When
the echoes had ceased, that this blow had awakened, the renewed
barking,--and there were now more than one dog,--was the only sound,
that was heard. The Count stepped back, a few paces, to observe whether
the light was in the tower, and, perceiving, that it was gone, he
returned t